I ALSO APPRECIATE ISABELLE HUPPERT, LIKE, AT FIRT, AND THEN IT GOT KIND OF WEIRD

Shamefully, I infused my last blog title ("I something something Huckabee") with the lampooning media spirits that will probably lead to an incompetent man running for president of the United States on name recognition alone (dead thuds of my head on the desk, thud thud thud). In my heart I know I could have done better. In my defense, I do write these things as quickly as possible, alternating sly sips of Wild Turkey with paranoid glances over my shoulder and tweaky mouseclicks when co-workers walk by the office. (I don't think they'd ever look at me the same if they knew I was about to say, in the eternal and indelible ink of internet blogging, that Vanessa Redgrave is a smokin' hottie. But more on that in a moment).

First off, Isabelle Huppert is a smokin' hottie. Convince yourself of this by 1) turning whatever sinister parental controls to "none, you fucking fascists" on your favorite search engine and 2) searching for images of Isabelle Huppert. Quick note, though, roll the dice and take your chances if someone's lookin' over your shoulder. Let me just say that this little exercise aroused my interest in the matter. I was inspired. (In the pants... see what I did there? You would rather destroy a stained glass window than an artist such as myself. Oscar Wilde is high-five-ing me from beyond the grave, cheeky bastard. But since I can't have you following me...).

Or how 'bout this. Go and find yourself a copy of Storia di Piera (aka Die Geschichte der Piera, wheeee!). Lather, rinse, repeat. The young Ms. Huppert has the same art house appeal as a young Vanessa Redgrave (c. The Sea Gull). I tol' yoo I was gonna say it! Buster Poindexter said it best I think; "Hot, Hot, Hot!" He should know because he was David fucking Johansen!

Jesus, I'm ADD today. Ooo, clever segue! Ahem...

Just as time has stolen the glamor and glory from David Johansen (see, I tol' you!), it has been unkind to Vanessa Redgrave. Isabelle Huppert has faired better in my estimation, but those are the breaks. You either turn out a Kathleen Turner or a Judy Dench... sexy Brit-beast that she is. So, please judge fairly.

I'm a fan of Isabelle Huppert. Or at least for awhile, I suppose. During my research, I discovered she named her oldest daughter Lolita. Hmmmm... How can a parent, in all good conscience, name her daughter Lolita?! I can't understand it. It should have been off the market since 1955. You had me, and then you lost me, Isabelle. I can forgive a lot of things (some kid gave me lice in kindergarten), but I can't forgive that.

And so, like a sheaf of wheat, so is this post about hot older chicks sacrificed to make ready the fields of my future explorations. I give you a list of names that should never, under any circumstances, appear on a birth certificate after, say... 1995 to be fair:

Lolita, Wren, Elvis, Prince, Holden, Diesel, Sigmund, Carson / Cody / Hunter. They're all either way to obvious or just... for chrissake, you know? I mean, come on. Just name your goddamned kid "Batman" and be done with it.

Hell, it worked just fine for Nicholas Cage, right?

Ass.